


Hijacked

by Thotum



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Dubious Consent, Grandpa Kink, M/M, Nudes, Porn with Feelings, Revised Version, Shower Sex, Spanking, i think, morty always sets himself up, rick has feelings too y'know, sexts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-07
Updated: 2018-07-07
Packaged: 2019-01-29 06:07:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 7,753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12624861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Thotum/pseuds/Thotum
Summary: Morty can't be alone with his thoughts, especially after watching some porn...He also over thinks shit. Can u blame him?





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have fixed this son of a bitch.
> 
>  
> 
> If u read the first version of this, I'm held accountable of your cringe. This new revised version will hopefully make up for your disappointment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written on my phone. If you notice any mistakes, typos, let me knoW!

Throughout the entire day, which he regretted, Morty laid in his room watching Rubhub, exhausting his energy out until boredom replaced his thoughts. “No better fap quality than one with a twink getting drilled by an older guy.” Morty spoke aloud, drained from his earlier fap session. Nobody was home, so he was in the safe zone to voice his opinions.

The video he watched didn't show their faces and was uploaded by someone unknown, not that he cared, but was thankful because he could have an unlimited imagination as to who it could be to him. Since the older man, which was evident by the slightly aged skin, but toned muscular body, gave him access to the probabilities, he used that to his advantage. He always had someone particularly favored in mind and got off to the thought that Rick was the one roughly fucking him in that same position. 

That's not the first time; won't be the last either.

He got up, deciding that staying in his room wasn't the best idea and went downstairs. The quietness was soothing and he enjoyed it- a little too much. He sat on the sofa, heaving out a sigh while relaxing his worn shoulders until they became lax. He was still tired from before, then gradually sank into the cushion, a misshapen one that was replaced multiple times over the years due to cigarette burns or the family's tears. More likely Beth's after she found out Jerry was meeting up with an alien named Qolupa for the past three years. 

How it went unnoticed was a huge surprise since Jerry makes everything so fucking obvious.

The day Jerry confessed to his actions about the ambiguous alien with the name unpronounceable name, was when Morty knew his father was sooner or later going to get kicked out. And that left him pondering as to who else would give him the closure he predominantly desired. His father figure, in a way, would then become Rick, but there was a limit as to how he would perceive Rick father-like and what he wanted out of him that he would never want from Jerry. 

As per usual, Rick was very hard to read and never showed his sexual attraction (or if he even was) to Morty whether it be alone or around family, which Morty respected, of course, and did ignore half the time that this was his grandfather for reasons he couldn't explain himself. 

He developed theories about why he was sexually attracted to his grandfather and tried justifying it as hormones. Did Summer think about Rick this way whenever she was, um, horny or hormonal? No, so that was the last reason he would ever use as an excuse. He was going to hell and would wonder if this would be worth it in the end.

Rick, on the other hand, could care less about everyone's problems, infidelity, and worn out couches. He didn't mull over it the slightest opposed to Morty who bitched about it to him, wanting to resolve the issues that adults typically dealt and got over with. It just wasn't his rodeo, so he'd revert to complaining about Jerry leaving the milk out, Jesus, did he hate that, while desperately trying to forget Morty's sad and innocent face which reddened within his proximity whenever he tried asking a question related to his family's petty fights. 

Morty shook his head, ridding himself from the time consuming deliberation that just took place in his head. He didn't know why he stayed at home, it was lame and his excuse was even more lame as he cringed to himself rephrasing it: I have homework that's due tomorrow. My English teacher wants us to write about why evoking emotion through art is better compared to a poem. His Mom bought it and it gave him time to wank, so that was a win.

He shrugged as it wasn't entirely bad, but the look from Rick before he left told him he knew he was so full of shit. That grin on his face would forever be stored in it's reserved folder in Morty's brain, labeled: Sexy Rick. 

Could he be any more cringe worthy?

Therapy was boring, yeah, but it would have given him something to do and talk about problems that would rather not be kept inside, save his infatuation with Rick.

Morty groaned inwardly to himself as he pulled his phone out. Maybe if he texted Rick that'd subdue his boredom. Of course his argument to this was that Rick wasn't interested in anyone trying to fill his head with over the top, not to mention, personal questions in their histrionic tone that supposedly compels people to answer. 

Therapists have just as many problems as any other person, so why they're qualified to act like they are there to listen is absolute horseshit.

He was absolutely free- he had to of been, but why did he go when he avoided people like that.

Did Morty act like that as well? Sometimes he'd question (not to the point of interrogating) him about where he'd been when he wouldn't show up after a week, but that was because he was simply concerned. He hated picturing Rick trapped somewhere without any contact for help while he was getting eaten by a five limbed monster sporting more than a dozen red beady eyes. Rick was too smart to get himself in that situation anyway.

Returning to the reoccurring thought Morty itched to figure out was why he went. Rick must've thought differently or had gone to make his daughter happy. Why else did he leave? Did Rick use the opportunity to elude Morty who acted like a clingy girlfriend and still get out of therapy? No, no, no.

Morty, at all costs, avoided being one portrayed as ‘clingy’. If at any time he were supposedly clingy, it would be because he cares about Rick's well being without making it obvious he would do more than show him. These immoral suggestions that he would do this for him only showed that he was that devoted and had a sick interest in pleasing him.

Morty contemplated for a quick second about other alternatives he could use on Rick as in his way of pleasing to the appropriate standard without raising question. Concluding this with the previous idea, he set forth to texting his grandfather. 

 

Morty: Hey, Rick! :)))

There wasn't an immediate reply like Morty thought there would be. Usually Rick's skilled and deft fingers moved swiftly whenever he did anything with them, which is possibly why Morty took interest in Rick. He knew exactly what to do with them, and was pretty hot thinking he could use them on him. Or in.

Berating himself, Morty knew he was too puny and short spanned to have a decent conversation with, less hold one with Rick or anybody. Those were his shortcomings and he lived up to that. What was an ideal Morty anymore?

Morty's newfound endeavor to discovering Rick's superiority complex was quite enticing and useful compared to his own. He didn't realize those articles on hippy websites about psyche would come in handy. 

Morty isn't a hippy. Aren't they vegans or whatever?

Morty was rethinking the entire thing. After all, maybe he is cooperating. Possibly criticizing the therapist at how shit their life is for enduring other people's problems when they have their own. But besides going for Beth, maybe he wanted to get some insight from a different person's outlook to fixing their issues. Fuck, no. Rick is too self conceited for that.

The young boy rolled his eyes, pulling himself up from the sofa, because Rick damn sure wasn't going to respond. "Wow, you couldn't-” Morty froze midway through his own dissatisfied remark as his phone vibrated against his leg. He cringed and whipped it out, hoping it was his grandfather even though he complained about Rick being remiss ten seconds ago. 

Morty sighed, vaguely remembering what he just put himself through when he texted Jessica under similar circumstances. He'd freak out because someone was actually noticing him and communicated with him other than mocking him behind his back. 

He entered his lock screen password: iloverick1. Morty almost changed it to iloverickandhelovesmetoo, but that was too long and if anyone tried getting into his phone, asking for the password…Well, he didn't dwell over that idea so much.

Rick: Fuck off, Morty. I'm getting Dr. Wong's panties in a bunch. She isn't the only one with intuition. 

His text made Morty smile. This was totally Rick. There was more he probably had wanted to brag about, but he left it at that.

Morty mentally slapped himself for being over reactive of the repercussions. What was Morty expecting? Him to yell in all caps with a lengthy paragraph about how Morty couldn't grasp the idea of giving space was essential to a man's egotistical needs and wants? He wouldn't phrase it like that, though.

It kind of relieved Morty that he did reply instead of nothing. He didn't leave because he was a clingy girlfriend as Morty liked to think himself as. Or just didn't mention it to avoid hurting Morty's feelings.

This enlightened his strange fascination of Rick a bit more, wanting to pursue this chance at grabbing Rick's attention to the fullest. And the living room held a very nebulous atmosphere which affected Morty's actions and feelings. What he would do or type next. Anything could go wrong.

Somewhere deep inside him, he wanted to kill himself for these incessant thoughts, these gross, sick, thoughts. Sure, he had them before, but didn't think he'd seriously do what he was going to do next. He shrugged it off, not wanting to change his mind, and continued to message his grandfather.

Morty: I wanted to come; should've went. I'm soooo bored, Rick /)_(\\!!! Miss u! 

None of what he said was a lie. Just over the top and sorta weird. Not gross at all, he thought. Not until it was too late from stopping himself. Morty reread his message a few times over, wondering if he should add something to make it less obvious that he has a crush on him. Nah, Rick won't notice.

A shaky breath escaped as he hurriedly slid his phone in his back pocket, hoping it would somehow erase the message he embarrassingly sent. What was this unceasing torture he was leading himself into? 

He brushed away some of the hair that got into his eyes. He was intently focused that he didn't even notice the house dropped a few degrees, or was that him? He didn't care. He went over to the thermostat to check and it was set to 74°. He shouldn't tamper with it, but felt like he should turn it up a few degrees higher. Was he sick?

His notifications were off, so he wouldn't know if Rick sent anything. He felt a surprise impending and silently prayed that Rick didn't say anything after what he sent or it'd ruin the alternation between them and make it increasingly awkward than it was. 

Rick probably brushed it off like it was typical ol' Morty being his anxious self.

 

“Shit,” the young boy stared up at the ceiling for a long second, sifting through his possible responses to Rick's probable answer. Morty looked down at his phone. He'd already run through the downsides of the conversation.

He proceeded to the couch and stretched across it. Rick chilled here rarely. His legs open and inviting for Morty to rest his head on. Never took the chance, too. Bummer. Morty nuzzled his nose against the cushion, relishing the memory as if Rick would magically appear if Morty thought hard enough.

Feeling reluctant and weird, he slid his phone vertically away from him as it toppled off the couch. He had to rid himself from the phone and rick, else something worse could ensue. He grabbed and rest his head on a withered pillow, deciding to have his own council meeting in his head.

Jesus, was his amygdala ruptured or something?

Morty addressed his issue inside his head and ‘they’ decided it would be best to see where it would lead him next. He was supposed to continue the ongoing sequence and see what would transpire. He blamed his imaginative and ‘correct’ thoughts-supporters in his head. 

He shuddered and walked to the kitchen to drown his Negative Nellie's away with a nice, cold, glass of water. He grabbed a glass from the cupboard and pictured Rick standing not too far away from him as he gawked at his youthful- naked body while filling his glass up and proceeding to drink it. He rest his elbow on the counter, eyes fluttering shut at the picture. 

What a dork.

He made a disgusted face and insistently approached the sink, immediately splashing himself with freezing water for reminding himself that he'd be naked. Would that be right? Morty was smart enough to set boundaries for himself, but jeez. Teenagers I tell ya.

He licked around his lips in a slow circular motion, collecting all the water as he swallowed it. He intentionally tried not to think of Rick being here, but god, he loved him too much to not. There weren't many times he was home and Morty sometimes found himself being carried to his room after sleeping on the couch. He left tears on the couch, too.

 

Slowly, these messages were turning him into a freak just thinking about it even more, especially after he watched that very enthralling porn video. Morty gripped the edge of the counter, closing his eyes to forget he memory. Right now, everything Morty did was on him, and he knew it, so why even continue this? To get a reaction? He almost forgot about his phone until that popped into mind.

Morty ran, jumping two feet across the air as his face landed squarely into the couch. Um, ouch. He positioned himself comfortably until picking his phone up from the ground he purposely neglected.

An uncomfortable feeling swept through him when he turned his phone on to see an inbox displayed on his screen with a message from Rick. Thank the heavens his settings were adjusted, then anyone could've seen what Rick sent. Morty didn't want to see it, but had a gut feeling he should.

Morty, being as pessimistic as always, thought the message from Rick was going to go like this: Leave me alone. I seriously don't want to put up with you right now, because why else do you think I left? I left all those other countless nights to get away from you. 

Well, that semi showed what was inside Morty's little head whenever Rick left: Nervousness and self loathing. Should've went to family therapy, huh?

But no, it was the complete opposite. He shrieked into the pillow after opening his phone to be greeted with a message and a picture attached. Was this for real? Morty wanted to pinch himself- not really, because why escape what he loved? Was he not allowed to have that? He felt like the master of his domain at the moment.

He also could've been hallucinating, he had been feeling dizzy lately. His mind was probably altering things from reality into his own perverse fantasy, as he has done before just to indulge in.

Returning his eyes to his phone after the short hectic spasm, he again covered his hands over his eyes to scroll up and read the message first. The picture was a glimpse because he saw it last and, well, didn't want to see that one first.

Rick: Really? It's smart you even stayed home because what we're discussing is for the adults :). I mean, I'm such an asshole. I'm surprised you never get sick of being near me and still want to come. And thank you for asking, by the way, because I am, in fact, very, very,

Morty, after reading that mention of him not getting sick of being near Rick, reminds himself of a dog with determined loyalty towards their master after they beat them. Yield, come, stop, halt, stay. It was a repetitive reminder in his head whenever he was with Rick, it felt.

And that's where the text and Morty stops because after that, there is an image with another recent text. “Grow some fucking balls, Morty.” He tells himself. He scrolls down very slowly, just a few increments.

The image vividly reappeared again, maybe sent twice on accident or to grab his attention because Morty was brought to the bottom of his messages to see it again- in full.

The dazed youngster dubiously stared, already a tent forming in his pants as he palmed at himself. Everything he ever thought the past hours was out the window, gone and forgotten, especially his judgement in responsibility.

He felt completely immobile from the universe. That porn video he watched couldn't top this even if faces were exposed.

Rick was hard as far as Morty could tell, even though he gripped his dick like a caged animal from Morty. The picture was taken at a challenging angle, obviously testing Morty's restraint as he could only see what was shown as he stared along the outlines of his cock. And his hands, those aged hands that then reminded him that this was his grandfather. He wanted that, wanted Rick, everything.

Rick's tight fitted slacks hugged him so well. It must've been hard dealing with that. What could he have been thinking that got him into this delicious state? But just the way Rick stares at Morty like he just won a prize at Blitz and Chitz meant a lot, even if it might mean a little to Rick.

Still, Morty wanted so badly to strip those pants from his body and lose his mouth virginity. It was silly as inexperienced as Morty was.

 

Looking at the text in between the two images read: 

Rick: good, my baby boy. Can't you see?

He praised Rick for sending another text (as if he read his mind) because it lifted him from his anxiety a bit.

Rick: I can imagine you, all by yourself, hard, and ready to just come. Don't touch yourself, babe. I'll know.

Pleased with the response, Morty obeyed and stopped rubbing himself. It was also an eerie thought that Rick would know if he was touching himself. But, he felt extremely happy, like he could live off just keeping this safe distance and continue texting- or was this considered sexting? Morty didn't know or care because this was his first time anyway. Rick didn't even give Morty time to repay him with a sweet text and maybe a picture as there was another image. 

Rainbows and butterflies.

The next image was- whew, Morty wanted to shriek into his pillow again. Was Rick doing this because he knew Morty was going to react this way? If so, he was doing a damn good job at it. 

Rick sent only two lip-biting ones, and it was all worth it. He sucked in his lip, giving a wickedly, hot, creased wink to the camera. He sorta had a grim expression, though. Like, Rick was showing him he was watching his every move. The entire time.

It scared Morty as he could feel feel a damp spot start to form in his pants. “Ohhh!” Morty whined, looking at his pants, almost tempted to just stroke himself, but thinking about what Rick said...He thought better not to.

The second one was him biting his lip again as he angled the camera down to an unsheathed cock. The tip was bulbous red and it seemed precum stained his slacks. Morty grinded his hips against the air, just wanting friction, but testing his limits as to how far he could last without turning over and humping against the cushions.

He was rubbing precum himself all over himself inside his pants. It was a bit uncomfortable, but he could handle it.

The stimulation continued as he tried, but shakily held onto his phone as be previewed the pictures of his grandfather's unbefitting, yet pleasurable and entertaining pictures against his altered self. 

"Oh, Rick!" Morty irritatedly moaned, frustrated that his grandfather was teasing him in such a forbidden way, unless he played dirty back, which he could. Morty tilted his head to the side to glance onwardly with an immodest look. He thought more about it, more about Rick.

Snap!


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Irresistible.

Morty looked completely flustered, what with all that time texting his grandpa in a short period of time, this really did it for him. He looked at the picture and thought he genuinely looked good. Cute enough for his grandfather, he thought.

Morty regained some of his normal complexion, but red still tinged his cheeks that proved he was enjoying this as much as Rick. He stared at the camera from below his lashes, wondering if he looked too innocent or just a bad boy who got in trouble waiting to get punished. He gave an inhibited look before snapping a picture and sent it.

There was a gnawing and agitating need of Morty to send more revealing pictures of him. Maybe ones without a scrap of clothing on except tight underwear he found in the little boy's department, or a towel wrapped loosely at his hips showing just a bit of his dick. He could just see Rick hungrily staring and wishing he could tear away the clothes and bite at his soft naked flesh. Claiming him along his neck while biting his way down to Morty's nipples, leaving him squirming and wiggling for his grandfather's touch… His lips.

*ping*

Morty's eyes were half closed as he continued to diligently stroke himself, still conjuring up more ideas for his personal photoshoot.  
He didn't notice anything until his phone turned off due to inactivity.  
Morty's eyes immediately widened once he saw an unexpected attachment. A video.

"Shit." Morty moaned into his arm, biting into it. He really didn't want to raise any questions about that and stopped, but it was too late.

A twinge of blood seeped to greet his tongue and rebuked. Rick sent him something, he forgot, and it was possibly more worthy of jacking off to. If only he could and wasn't in such a predicament.

Morty quickly and really tried to contain himself before reluctantly clicking the video. 

Once the video started, the background was clearly a bathroom: white tiles, a soap dispenser with stacks of paper towels set next to it, and the same framed picture of a man eating a hot dog. Courage. Rick gave a brisk look into the mirror- probably admiring himself before licking his lips and looked straight at the camera. “Morty, you've been such a naughty boy, hm? You look so fucking adorable with that look. It suits you, really. I want to fuck it off you actually, really see your colors show while you're screaming my name.”

Morty almost forgot about what Rick was referring to until he remembered the picture he sent. Oh, jeez. Rick is also implying fucking him. Double oh, jeez.

Rick slowly turned the phone around, exposed from the waist down, leaving only his lab coat on. Morty appreciated how he left it on though, something about that made everything stand out or remind him that this is the man who was a mad scientist of a grandfather. 

Either way, he was greatly loved by Morty because he felt he knew him better than the rest of the family. Morty even loved the way his grandfather looked when he wasn't as exposed as this. Sleepless, tousled, blue hair, or how his lab coat undulated whenever Rick maneuvered back and forth to his mechanical devices or a careless contraption. But most of all, those bags under his eyes just from working day and night to find the formula for whatever; or it could be spending countless hours flying through space with Morty. 

Yeah, it's pretty selfish thinking about that, knowing your grandfather can't sleep because he likes making you happy.

Rick groaned gravely, snickering afterwards at how Morty, unsurprisingly, must be losing his mind at his antics shown in the video. Morty giggled, feeling the creeping blush arise in his cheeks once again. 

The camera suddenly started shaking, emulating Rick's actions as it only showed his callused hand did high-tempo strokes. He didn't aim it any more down, which Morty condemned Rick to hell for that. After a while he pointed it to the tip of his dick, possibly to tease Morty, which was working. "Rick." Morty said in a hurried and breathless moan. He thrusted his erection into his cupped hand, synchronizing with Rick's increasing speed, but altogether slowing down to prevent coming too soon.

It was all too much to keep up with until Rick positioned the camera down onto the toilet seat, Morty assumed, and gave a wry smile into the camera. "Your turn." It wasn't a request; it was a command. 

Morty was confounded by the sudden change of capacity. He felt exhilarated yet his anxiety peaked at what Rick told (not asked) in return. He never sent a nude or a video before. Maybe once, but he never sent them to anyone. Only privately took them himself to see if any positions looked good for him.

One time, he remembered, Rick commented on his ass looking ‘good’ in these pair of shorts he wore during spring break. They were yellow (unironically) and hugged his ass. Tightly. That was the first time Rick complimented Morty's body in a sexual way. Or slightly close. That same day, Morty didn't even know Rick was staring at his ass the entire time until Morty turned around to ask Rick a question regarding icecream and his eyes returned to his face without hesitation. Well, Morty wasn't sure if he was, but undoubtedly he must've.

Why was he so worried now? Since he wasn't ashamed of his body it should go completely fine. His guts twisted around now that it occurred to him it was his turn. He seriously thought taking that picture for Rick was easy breezy and could manage a few others, but now, he was worried he would be made fun of for a lousy photo of him naked. 

He really didn't want to leave Rick hanging any longer. Using that experience with the pictures he took on himself, he took a few pictures, previewing them and selecting ones that weren't blurry or taken at bad angles. He was so very close on the verge of coming while he took those pictures, so all them had his little hard on, leaking precome and a very red-faced Morty.

Morty did and wanted to do what Rick asked of him and sent them. He also started to record for him like Rick had done and was supposed to anyway. 

The camera recorded Morty's slow and gentle strokes, hoping to irritate and tease Rick as he did him. He even propped the phone up on the end of the couch so he could lay against the arm of the other end of the chair, continuing to jack off to the camera.

A hefty moan filled the air after a hard thrust into his hand. He was about to come any second now. Morty wanted to please Rick just as much as he was pleasing himself, but his strokes started to become prolonged as he neared orgasm. He didn't want to come, he wanted to experience this feeling for a little longer until his grandfather commanded him to come.

Responding to his wishes, Rick sent a text that said:

Rick: Do it, baby! Come for me, show your grandpa how much you love me.

His hands moved in a more swift pace, unable to control his speed any longer at his grandfather's reply. This was it. 

"Rick, I'm coming!” He whimpered out pathetically as his come jetted out onto his chest and painted his face, mostly chin and mouth. It slid off his body onto the sides and gradually dried.

Rick: Fuck! Babe, way to go. You should clean yourself up, but I would rather see you lick it off. I already took a screenshots of this lol.

Continuing to pump his dick until it softened, Morty looked at the text and cringed at what he must look like. And why Rick wanted him to do what he asked was beyond weird for Morty, but he didn't question it. All he knew was Rick was going to like it.

Before he did that, though, he took a picture of his face dripping with come and saved it to his personal folder with his other nudes, then readied himself for the other awkwardly challenging command from Rick. He picked up a generous amount of come from his face, not exactly ready to taste too much of himself, but it was enough. Next, he poked his tongue out and popped his finger on it, tasting the saltiness as he took the picture. 

When he looked at it, after properly cleaning himself, he seemed he unconsciously half closed his eyes which made him look like a whore in the picture.Some of it even dribbled off his lips and rolled down his jawline.

That was the one.

Morty's fingers hovered above the send button for a while until Rick messaged back with a question mark that signified his impatience for his absence. Morty knew Rick could already somehow see him struggling through the camera, but pushed him past his limits until he did what he was told.

He pressed send and his heart felt like it was going a thousand miles an hour. It wasn't even because of the picture, it was the thrill of knowing he just did this, exchanging nudes and videos with his grandfather. His first, weird enough to say now.

His phone vibrated. Rick messaged.

It was always a suspense to Morty when Rick texted him. It was just as rare as him spending time with the family and now a surprise because he was spamming him with messages.

Rick: Fuck, baby. If I stayed home, I wouldn't be able to help myself around you. You look beautiful licking that come off with your little tongue.

Rick: I can't wait to taste you myself when I get back. I wanna lick that come off your pretty face, too. God, getting me hard and horny AGAIN just thinking about it while we're just about to leave. Gonna be difficult trying to not make it obvious I've got a hard on for you.

Rick: Im so fucking hard. It hurts ;)

Rick: Want you to ride my big fat dick. Jflsjdlafjslooii

Rick: I bet you're getting hard again just thinking about it :). Little slut.

These messages were all too overwhelming. But it did make Morty hard just as Rick predicted.

Morty fantasized for the time being about what they'd do once he was home. Would it be awkward and be set on bad terms? Was Rick going to even fuck him. He gripped the couch and grounded his ass against it. It was flat and soft; he wanted it hard and twitching against his ass.

He was still naked, too, which he had almost forgotten and ran upstairs before his mom got home or Rick. He didn't know if he was going to use a faster transportation, like, let's say, using the portal here.

His phone vibrated after he slipped fresh pants on and a yellow shirt.

Rick: I'm home.


	3. Wet and Hot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Tonight, the only adventure you're on is your cusping manhood." -Rick Sanchez, [S01E11]

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's getting pretty steamy in here.

Of-fucking-course he teleported here. Rick stepped out of the portal and paced around the living room with a smug look. Rick was that determined to see Morty, he knew it.

It was also no surprise when Rick wasn't shocked to see no Morty. He was tracking his every move with his phone, except when he left it unattended on the floor for a while and finally picked it up. Rick, at first, thought he was going to do something, like self harming because he had a look that was questioning things to hard. Never look into things too much knowing there will be guilt following your actions. But, he knew his Morty better than that.

Morty sat on his bed, expecting Rick to come up any second now. If Rick wanted to fuck him that badly, he'd go after him. Morty checked himself in his phone's reflection. His hair was matted with sweat which held a musky stench in the air. He forgot to shower, but obviously there would be no time with knowing Rick's intentions. If he took one now, it would show Morty didn't really care to jump into it so fast and rather take a shower instead. Hygiene first. 

He sneakily scampered to his bathroom and dipped inside the tub, turning the knob to luke-warm. It hit his skin, rinsing his sweat and shame down the drain.

The sound of laughter came downstairs, followed with Rick asking, “Hellooo?” in a gruff-amusing voice.

Rick was only welcomed with silence, but instantly knew where Morty was as soon as he heard the shower. He scratched his head numbly and sighed as he carried himself toward the stairs. "Fuck, you don't even know what you're expecting, boy.”

He sneered, but bit down onto his lip as the image of his naked grandson appeared before him, like a mirage. Wet, pure, and so innocent. He reconsidered being an asshole once he’d see him and remained neutral.

Steam filled the bathroom with haste. Morty bathed his body with sweet coconut-scented body wash of Summer's. Why don't they make these for men? Isn't body wash supposed to be gender neutral? Would that be weird? Morty withdrew away from his bickering inquisitive thoughts. Why was he arguing about body wash? Maybe those were just the perks of someone who was clearly incapable of a situation rearing into them at a time like this.

Rick's nostrils flared as he neared the bathroom. He was immediately directed from the potent coconut smell Morty obviously coated his body with. Rick chuckled gravely, brusquely opening the door to the distinct aroma-filled bathroom. The compacted room held them precisely four feet apart and Rick broke that separation within two strides towards the shower.

Morty was humming to himself a very melancholic hum. He touched his throat, feeling it emanate a vibrational feel that raced to his dick. How would it feel to get choked? His wandering thoughts were interrupted by footsteps heading toward the shower.

The shower curtains abruptly swept past him and his exposed body was greeted with cold air. Rick turned the knob to the right until he'd reached the break of its turn. The once warm water was then cold, causing Morty to take refuge in the corner of the shower. “Rick! I'm s-showering.” Morty sounded so innocent, like he was clueless about what transpired between them a few minutes ago.

His body didn't get so accustomed to the display of his vulnerable skin and he started to shiver quietly. “I'm cold, please make it warm!” His teeth clattered within the silence between them until Rick smiled, causing Morty to freeze, not that he wasn't already. Just the way Rick looked at him like he knew what he was exactly going to do. He traced the curves of his body down to his feet only to have them go up to meet his eyes.

Morty was dripping wet, exactly what Rick pictured before he arrived. He always wanted to take Morty swimming somewhere private, preferably on another planet so he can see his Morty getting soaked, running around and squealing with excitement.

“You're fucking hard, just look at you. Still haven't touched you and I can make you come by just a simple demand by text.” Rick's pale expression was blunt, but dampened from the steam wafting out of the shower. He chortled, making Morty uneasy from the devious gleam in his aged eyes. Morty knew he was right. All he did was heed to his wishes- no, demands, and he did it.

Morty can't stand his face, not that it was bad or anything, but he looked predatorial. Ready to pounce at any given second because he was too unpredictable to tell whether he should react sooner or later.

“You're either in or…” Morty drearily looked down at his erection against his stomach. He was worried if he could touch it without causing alarm in Rick. He avoided disappointing him, so he kept his hands to his sides, waiting for Rick to tell him what he needed to do. He uneasily popped his head up to look at Rick's settled expression, baffled by his easiness to forget what he was going to say, but didn't need to finish. Rick would supply him with an answer.

“I'm in.” The elder said it too casually. Not like the other option would've been better than being in the shower.

The perturbed Morty scuttled to reside himself below the nozzle of the shower, half-expecting for it to blast him with warm water again. Rick glanced at Morty's nervous state and lavishly turned the knob to its past previous setting. 

The older man stripped out of his clothes, dropping them carelessly onto the wet tile. 

“Turn around.” The voice expelled in front of Morty was thick with superiority and exhortation. The teen slowly turned around, teetering his hands around the edges of his ass awkwardly. Why was he so nervous? This was his grandfather. Yes, this respected dickwad of a grandfather getting ready to… Who knows what.

Rick grimaced. “Cut that shit out.” He slapped his hands away from his ass, deflecting a sharp ‘smack’ in the air. Morty's face contorted into mere enjoyment, but Rick didn't see that.

Morty unknowingly returned his hands to his ass again. Was it out of fear knowing what Rick might do? Or that he would slap him again?

Rick shook his head. “Every time you do that it will hurt more.” Again, Rick swung at the partially red ass, causing a deeper shade of red to appear. The outline of Morty's hands brought out the contrast.

Morty hysterically chuckled out of pain, breathless and tired. “Ow! Could you stop that, Rick!?” Morty moaned out when another coarse slap came against his ass.

“Shut the fuck up.” Rick's mouth was right against his ear, causing goosebumps to race all over his body. “Don't speak.”

Morty had to be quiet. If this kept up any longer, he just might break down crying.

The stimulation didn't end until Morty completely stilled. He let out a few whimpers here and there, but was taking it better than before because Rick rewarded him with a soothing rub over his ass. Periodically, he'd slip a finger in the cleft of his ass, fingering his hole lightly which Morty then started losing balance, leaning against the shower wall, moaning.

Morty could tell Rick was losing concentration over his rhythm in his gentle carcasses over his hole because he stopped and bent over to bite his ear lobe lightly. “Shh, baby. You gotta be quiet, grandpa needs you to- needs you to stop teasing grandpa.” he licked a stripe over his face, snickering as he backed away. “I could watch you like this all day.”

Rick's erection didn't go unnoticed, it started to grow against Morty's leg. He rubbed his cock, soaring his eyes over the curve of Morty's back and to his ass. 

Morty bit his lip, not sure if he should do something and instead turned his head to ask Rick, entreating him with his eyes. 

“Do I even have to ask?” Was Rick's nonchalant reply.

Morty dropped onto his knees in an instant. He tightened his grip around his grandfather's erection, rubbing his balls experimentally, feeling them, licking them until he worked his tongue to the tip and down to the base. 

“You ever suck a dick before?” Rick asked, slightly pushing himself down Morty's mouth.

Morty mumbled out a ‘no’, sending intense vibrations through Rick's dick. He inched himself in, letting out a groan as he grabbed onto Morty's hair to keep him where he was. Morty whined in protest, but that earned him a tug on his hair. 

Precum dripped ampley into his mouth; travelling down Morty's chin.

Rick grabbed a fistful of Morty's hair, craning it upwards so he could look down at him.“Your mom was being all bitchy at me for not grabbing you along,” 

He had a distasteful bitter tone as he thrusted himself more inside Morty's mouth, still positioning his head so he could look at him. “If I brought you and you still hadn't had texted me, we still would've been in this situation.”

Rick backed out of Morty's protesting mouth, chuckling as it slapped him against his tearstained face.

Morty smiled, twisting one of his curls around his finger continuously, not taking his love struck eyes from his grandfather’s.   
“Really?” The adolescent’s big brown luxurious eyes spell bound themselves on his grandfather. It felt weird to know that they still would've been in this situation, but he still wanted to ask to be sure. Whenever Rick said something that sounded meaningful or at least nice, it was hard to tell if he was being serious and truthful about it.

Rick sighed greatly, as if he were deeply and carefully concentrating on what to say before telling Morty. His grandson was very sensitive and so very precious to him. Anything he'd say would rush Morty into a tight compacted bubble so he could hide himself from being any more hurt. 

“Yes, we could have fucked anywhere, I honestly don't care.” He suppressed a yawn before continuing. “If we ever got caught, I wouldn't leave you...I'd be with you as we'd venture the multiverse for a new home. Anything for you.” 

Morty wanted to believe Rick was being honest about expressively saying these things to him. He was going to say it must've been hard saying this to him, but it sounded scripted and forced, like he had said it innumerable times before. 

“Come on, g-get up so I can fuck you. You're making me soft.” Rick motioned his hips upwards as his semi-hard dick bounced in the air. Morty smirked, trying to enlighten, not Rick, but himself so he could feel confident.

Morty's knees felt weak once he stood up, stabilizing himself as he grabbed onto the wall. His dick ached as it hadn't been neglected this long in such a sexual situation.   
Almost slipping, Rick caught Morty by the waist with his large hands and turned him around to face him. “You're so clumsy, you little shit.” Morty covered his beet red face, too embarrassed for Rick to see him that way whenever he called him names even though it had no significance to him at all. 

“Stop covering your face. You're so cute.” Rick's rough voice was heavy with liquor but still sincere, or some what detected as sincere. He clasped his hands around Morty's wrist, moving them away, but they lingered around his dick, itching to finish himself off.

Rick looked down at Morty's dick, refusing to touch it or acknowledge it; the same went for Morty as he gave him a look of warning and repercussions if he tried anything. Morty whined, hitching his thigh up to at least graze it, somehow.

Rick took what little fat Morty had in his thigh and pinched it. He squeaked and dropped it, renewed tears streaming down his face.

“Just wrap your hands around my neck, babe.” Rick lifted Morty up by his thighs, wrapping his hands around them securely so Morty was pressed against the shower wall and him. There was no space between them now.

Morty fumbled his hands to wrap themselves around Rick's neck. Rick used his other hand to grab his side so that he could envelop his legs around his waist tightly.

Rick bucked up into him, his dick nearly brushing against his slick asshole. Morty's cock twitched, spilling precum onto Rick's stomach

Morty erupted an airy moan that traveled to Rick's dick. Since the body wash was lathered everywhere, it produced a lube-like substance for Rick to easily accommodate the teen's ass. He easily slid into him without warning, provoking a sharp cry from the boy. “I know it hurts, it will feel better, don't worry.” Rick quieted him with reassurance.

Morty could trust that, at least. He's heard talk around school that the first time does hurt. But by someone who is penetrating you with a surprisingly big dick...the rules don't exactly apply there for him. He still enjoyed it, yes. It was a new experience and it was very pleasurable every time Rick hit against the proverbial ‘sweet spot’.

As Rick picked up the pace, Morty held tightly onto Rick's neck. “Rick, Rick, Rick,” Morty chanted out helplessly, clawing at his back which only whetted Rick's arousal. “F-fuck you're so fucking big!” A scream uplifted inside the shrouded shower, causing it to sound dense. Rick smiled, biting and sucking on Morty's neck, all the while he untiringly fucked him. It didn't matter to him how loud he screamed, wailed, and moaned, it was all engulfed within the entirety of the house.

Rick smothered him with kisses, tracing down his brow bone and around his lips and to his collarbone. They both moaned when Rick increased his pace, pushing and guiding him harder against the slippery shower wall. It almost seemed to Morty he wasn't sure he'd be able to hold onto him longer as he slipped a few times rearing up on his climax.  
It still felt like he was going to slip from Rick's grip, but he held onto him as tight as he could once he came hard in between them. It washed away quickly, but Rick caught notice of it. 

He hastened, accelerating his thrusts until he groaned, coming a profound amount of come inside his ass. Panting into Morty's neck, he held onto him while still being inside, dropping themselves onto the floor of the tub.

Rick kissed Morty's head, brushing wet tendrils of hair from his face. They lolled, still bundled together as Morty sagged against his body in a very tiresome way. “Go to sleep. I've got you my baby boy. I'll be with you until tomorrow and the day after. Don't you forget that.”

“Never.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback very much appreciated!


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